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Sometimes I find myself in a bit of a funk not wanting to date after meeting a lot of women that just don't do anything for me, and this was one of those instances. I was finding myself more and more content to stay home by myself. I’d call to invite my friend Ally over with a promise of cooking for her and watching movies, and when she wasn’t home, I’d invite her roommate Vi. They convinced me that I shouldn’t give up. I ended up striking a conversation online one day with a blonde named Jill, who told me how much she loved cooking for her friends and that she had spent the whole weekend preparing for a dinner party. Like I cared. But I knew I needed to get out, so I pretended to be interested and asked her out on a date.

Jill was what most men would describe as “cute”. She wasn’t hot but had a great smile with dimples, a shapely figure and you could tell she wanted nothing more than to find a man and be a housewife. In other words, she just wasn’t my type. During dinner, she would tell me stories about people that I didn’t know and didn’t want to know, and I’d look away and stare at others in the restaurant. I’d realize I was doing this and would then turn back and smile and ask something else. I kept repeating this and started realizing that every time I looked away, she was noticing, but it was only making her want my attention more.

Towards the end of dinner, she started talking again about her hobby of cooking for others, but complained that the kitchen in her condo was small. I told her that the one thing I loved about my house was that the previous owners had remodeled the entire kitchen and it was huge. She actually seemed excited about that, and I offered to show her given I lived close by. As she seemed like a “nice girl” who likely would look at me funny if I tried to kiss her on the first date, I was surprised that she actually said she would take me up on the offer.

Jill ended up loving my house, the kitchen, the art, pictures of the kids, my grandfather clock, how neat and organized things were, etc. However, my two heads were in direct conflict. The big head chastised me for bringing her to my home…now she knew where I lived. But my little head recognized we had potential to get laid that night, and he won out. I hadn’t showed her my bedroom, but when she asked to use the bathroom, it was my opening. I have three bathrooms in my house and the kids use two of them but are forbidden from using Dad’s. The reason is that young boys often don’t have very good aim, and I wanted at least one of them to be clean. I told her that I couldn’t be held accountable for the ones that the boys used, and that she should use the one in my bedroom.

When she came out of the bathroom, I was laying on my bed watching TV. I patted the spot next to me, inviting her to join me. By this point, she was very comfortable with me and laid down next to me, and not long after put her head on my chest. We ended up having sex, which was only so-so. She didn’t go down on me, and didn’t seem interested in any position other than missionary. I had screwed up by inviting her over, and now was going to have to figure out how to get rid of her. Because she had fallen asleep, it was going to have to be the next morning. I couldn’t see myself telling someone the morning after that it was a mistake. I’d have to figure something out later in the week. I could always deploy the bitching strategy, that seemed to work well in the past for me.

At some point during the night, Jill jumped out of bed yelling. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, other than “oh shit, oh shit”. She shut the bathroom door and I could hear her moaning and repeating that phrase. I figured she was upset with herself for sleeping with me on the first date, but I really didn’t feel like comforting her and telling her that it was OK, I still respected her. Because I didn’t. Not because she slept with me on the first date, but just in general I didn’t like her much.

She eventually came out of the bathroom holding a washcloth to her eye and stared me down. Looking back, I think the conversation was a bit comical, though I’m sure she counts me was one of her worst dates of all time…

JILL: Didn’t you hear me screaming?

ME: Yeah, it woke me up, which sucks because I was having a great dream.

JILL: Didn’t you stop to wonder WHY I was screaming? Didn’t it dawn on you to come into the bathroom to see what was wrong?

ME: No. I recently read this article about people who have night terrors and wake up screaming and sometimes sleep walk. I’m pretty sure it said you should never wake them up.

(Later, Ally would remind me that in reality I got this from the movie “Step Brothers” but I figured saying I read it would sound more credible)

JILL: That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.

ME: Well you haven’t known me very long.

JILL: For your information, it was your stupid pillow. The end of a feather stuck out and nearly poked out my eye. As it is, it pricked the skin just below my eye and actually drew blood.

ME: Yeah, I don’t like that pillow much. That’s why it’s on the other side of the bed from where I sleep.

JILL: This was a mistake. I’m leaving.

ME: OK. I’ll walk you out.

JILL: That’s OK, don’t trouble yourself, you’ve already made it clear that you can’t be bothered to check on the welfare of your guests.

ME: Well, I have to lock the door behind you anyway.

Can you believe I never heard from Jill after that? I did keep the pillow though because it may come in handy in the future.

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